


The key

by Oldkostka



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF Molly Hooper, F/M, Kidnapping, Protective Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 5,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23085052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oldkostka/pseuds/Oldkostka
Summary: Sometimes, it is very simple to open a heart...you just have to find the key.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 15
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

The damp cold of London's winter immediately whipped his face as he passed the gates of St Barts Hospital.  
Unconsciously he went up the collar of his Belstaff and buried his face under his scarf. He noticed the unusual silence of the street. Then he remembered that it was Christmas Eve. The Londoners were at home, with family, around a stupid tree, sharing useless gifts. There was only him to work on Christmas Eve, in a gloomy and silent laboratory, focused on discovering what was the viscous substance discovered under Mrs. Stevenson's fingernails.

Him and Molly Hooper.

At the thought of his pathologist, Sherlock smiled, and a gentle warmth invaded him. Molly, adorable Molly. Tonight she had stayed with him, helped him in his research, always available and listening to him.  
In fact, it was she who had discovered the origin of the material under Mrs. Stevenson's fingernails, castor oil. And she had impressed him, as she often does. 

She was alone tonight, too. He had noticed under her blouse this horrible Christmas sweater, the same one she was wearing on Irene Adler's identification night. Another Christmas which he had tried to erase from his memory without success. For he did not know what reason, it was impossible for him to erase any memory related to Molly Hooper.

He was grateful that she had never spoken with him about the events in Sherrinford three months ago. This thought gave him chills. Molly did not want to confront him with his own cowardice and coldness. That phone call had devastated her, he knew it. But he didn't know what to do, he wasn't ready to face what he felt that day. Molly understood this and made sure their relationship continue as before. 

Tonight, he had let her work (she had taken the night shift). Kissed her on the cheek, thanked her and left the morgue. He'd come back in the morning, bring her her favorite coffee as a Christmas present. Oddly, he couldn’t wait to come back.

Mechanically, he raised his hand to hail one of the few cabs that entered the street.

He suddenly felt a presence behind him, an imperceptible shadow. He had no time to turn around. As soon as the revolver's butt fell heavily on his temple, he lost consciousness.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock regained consciousness with difficulties and realized his surroundings. The pain in his head was almost unbearable. The first sensation he felt was that of a hot liquid flowing along his left temple.

_Blood, not good._

After a few seconds of battle between consciousness and unconsciousness, he was able to mentally establish a rapid diagnosis of his condition and situation.

_Very blurred vision (leave time for your eyes to adapt)_

_Standing_

_Hands tied together above my head (Around a slightly hot pipe)_

_Big pain in the left shoulder, dislocated (straighten on your legs)_

_Hot (where's my coat?)_

_Taste of blood in my mouth (definitely not good)_

_(...Estonia, the cell, the day Mycroft picked me up...)_

_Jerky breathing, irregular heartbeat (calm down)_

_(Damn pain in my head !)_

_Noise (from piping, siren in the distance)_

_A strong smell (oil and motor oil)_

_Quiet (I'm alone here)_

_Light pitching (the hold of a ship therefore)_

_(John's voice in my head: What the Hell Sherlock ????!!!)_

As he bent about these sensations, Sherlock straightened his head and blinked several times in the hope of seeing a little clearer. A ray of light passed through his still blurred vision. He could still see that it was dark but not totally.

_Christmas Eve,_

_John with Rosie and Mrs H in Baker Street...._

_Molly in St Barts, behind secure doors,_

_Garry on holiday in Morocco with his children,_

_Mycroft probably at the office._

_Eurus... When was my last visit to Sherrinford ?_

Suddenly, a slight sound caught his attention. All his senses were awakened. No, he was not alone. He felt a presence a few yards away. He straightened his head, his vision still very blurred, on the defensive, ready to receive the blows that would certainly fall on him. But what he heard was worse than a thousand uppercuts. A shy and frightened voice that had nothing to do in this appalling chaos...

\- Sherlock ?

_Oh no, no. NO._


	3. Chapter 3

\- Sherlock ?

Rage was the first feeling that invaded Sherlock. Rage against the person responsible for this mess, rage against himself. He clenched his teeth and fists so as not to scream. His whole body became angry. Having Molly in this hell was unbearable. He lacked oxygen, physical pain vanished, he just wanted to kill someone.

\- Sherlock? Do you hear me?

Molly's voice brought him back to his reason in the blink of an eye. The tone of her voice indicated that she was worried. For her, he had to regain his composure. He took a great breath and directed his gaze straight ahead of him, straight to her.

\- Molly, are you okay?

He began to perceive her small figure a few steps from him, 7 or 8 meters. He heard her sigh deeply, as if relieved.

\- My god Sherlock, I thought they had you kil...

\- MOLLY, ARE YOU OKAY ?? Sherlock cried, in a firm, cold voice. He immediately regretted this outburst. But he had to know. Now.

\- Yes, I... I think I'm fine… I'm fine Sherlock, she said in a voice that he felt was reassuring.

Sherlock released a sigh of relief. He dared not imagine what he would have done if she had been physically attacked. His view became clearer and clearer and he was finally able to see her clearly.

There she was, right in front of him, her hands tied around the same pipe. Except that her small size made her stand on tiptoe. She did not appear to have been beaten but he noticed that several buttons in her shirt had popped revealing her cleavage. Strands of hair had come out of her ponytail. Her eyes were fixed on his. Her little mouth was ajar, looking for air. Pearls of sweat flowed along her temples and neck. And she waddled on tip toe, trying to get out of her uncomfortable position. She was a mess, a beautiful mess, couldn't help but think sherlock.

\- What about you? she said, worried

\- Injury at the back of the skull and probably dislocated shoulder, but I've been through worse, he said in a reassuring tone. Molly, you have to tell me everything you remember, I need to know everything.

-I don't know. It's very blurry. A few minutes after you left the hospital, I went to the locker room after Mrs. Stevenson's autopsy. Someone grabbed me from behind and put me on the floor. I struggled as much as I could but there were too many of them...

\- How many were there ? asked Sherlock between his teeth, feeling the rage rising again in him

\- Maybe 3 or 4... Then I felt a sting in my neck. I woke up here a few minutes before you.

She was silent and Sherlock observed her. She was pretty quiet. Sherlock knew that Molly Hooper was a brave and determined woman. She had an exemplary professional career on her own, in a predominantly male and difficult environment. She was practically the only one who knew how to put him back in his place, at best with a simple glance, at the worst with a well-deserved slap. But to see her keep her cool here, under threat and in a hostile situation, was impressive.

\- Sherlock, what's going on? Who kidnapped us?

\- I don't know

\- Is it Jim?

\- Moriarty is dead Molly, replied Sherlock, annoyed by the fact that she called the criminal mastermind by his first name.

\- Maybe Eurus?

\- I don't know, replied Sherlock again as he observed the hold in which they stood

\- Why are they doing this to us? Why am I involved in this?

\- I DO NOT KNOW MOLLY !!!!! LET ME CONCENTRATE !!! cried Sherlock

Obviously, she contained her nerves much better than he did. He knew why: Molly's presence made him lose all his means.

Molly froze, stared at him with a murderous look and said coldly:

\- I don't allow you to yell at me like that Sherlock Holmes.. I didn't ask for anything. I'm not part of your world of criminal masterminds, vendetta or whatever. I'm a doctor, not a cop. SO DON’T YELL AT ME !!!

\- WHO’S YELLING NOW ????

\- HOW DARE YOU !!! IT IS YOUR FAULT IF I FIND MYSELF IN THIS FUCKING MESS, NO NEED TO BE A DETECTIVE CONSULTANT TO DEDUCE IT !!!

\- AND YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW THAT ???

Suddenly a noise was heard in the bottom of the hold. A heavy door opened. Molly and Sherlock immediately fell silent. Sherlock stared at Molly with a look that was as reassuring as possible.

A man's voice was heard behind Molly:

\- So, we’re having a little domestic ?


	4. Chapter 4

\- So, we’re having a little domestic ?

Sherlock held his breath as the man slowly approached in the dim light behind Molly. He looked at Molly, who did not take his eyes off him. This time she was terrified. And he was pretty sure she was reading the same emotion in his own eyes. Before the man reached his pathologist, Sherlock declared in the strongest and calmest voice possible:

\- Dr. Hooper has nothing to do here. I'm asking you to release her.

The man did not answer but continued to move forward. His footsteps echoed throughout the hold.

\- Release Dr. Hooper immediately. She is of no use to you, Sherlock repeated more firmly.

\- No use ? Are you sure Mr. Holmes ? replied the man with a smile as he entered the light and stopped at Molly's side.

Sherlock turned on his internal scanner:

_Thirty- rugby player - rich family - single – daddy’s boy - Marvel enthusiast - finance graduate_

He was not carrying a weapon. With his hands in the pockets of his trademark suit, he stared at Sherlock with a playful look, which made him terrifying. Sherlock had never seen him before, and yet he seemed vaguely familiar.

\- On the contrary, I think that Miss Molly Hooper is going to be very useful to us.

Saying this, the man moved forward to stand between Sherlock and Molly, his eyes fixed on Sherlock.

\- Who are you ? asked Sherlock coldly

\- Can't you deduce it ? So disappointing, replied the man, nodding

\- Another criminal genius ? How boring..., Sherlock said, rolling his eyes

Sherlock noticed from the corner of his eye that Molly was relaxing a little.

The man smiled at Sherlock but made no comment.

Then he turned to Molly. Sherlock felt a strong discomfort in the hollow of his belly.

\- You are a mystery to me sir, why don’t you give me a clue ? said Sherlock, hoping to divert the man’s attention from Molly.

The man completely ignored him. Not saying a word, he began to approach Molly. She watched him advance towards her and had a recoil reflex. Sherlock saw that she was trying not to appear frightened.

\- I ask you once again to leave Dr. Hooper out of this, said Sherlock

And without thinking he added :

\- Please…

No reaction from the man. Sherlock felt an indescribable fear invading him. By reflex he made a forward movement but found himself blocked by the handcuffs to the piping. With all his senses awake, he had to bring himself to wait and observe.

\- Miss Hooper, said the man in a charming tone, please apologise for these conditions of detention more than unpleasant. I can assure you that my parents taught me much better manners. Especially to young and pretty women. I'm sorry about the way my men molested you, they take their missions too seriously sometimes.

The man detailed Molly's form. His gaze stopped at the ties that held her wrists around the pipe.

\- But exceptional circumstances, exceptional means… bla bla bla you know, he said, shrugging his shoulders.

Panic, distrust and fury, that's what Sherlock read in Molly's eyes. However, she said nothing.

The man came even closer to the young pathologist. A smile on his face..

\- Let me introduce myself to you, lovely Miss Hooper...…

He bent down, approached his face a few inches from Molly's, smiled and winked at her.

\- ... Anthony Charles Magnussen, but you can call me Tony…. Your boyfriend killed my father.


	5. Chapter 5

\- Your boyfriend killed my father.

Staring at the man with a cold look, Molly released the breath she was holding and said in an exasperated tone:

\- You are wrong, I don't have a boyfriend

\- Oh, I beg to differ Miss Hooper...

Saying this, he removed his hands from his pockets and began to gently slip a finger into Molly's cleavage, touching her skin, his piercing gaze peering between her breasts.

\- DON'T TOUCH HER !!!

Sherlock's ferocious and murderous order reasoned throughout the ship. It had the effect of stopping Tony. But, far from being impressed, the man abandoned his exploration and told Molly with a smile.

\- You see ?...

Then Tony turned to Sherlock.

In a cold, determined voice, the detective threatened :

\- She gets hurt… she dies… she breaks a fingernail… she sheds a tear… Anything. Anything happens to her, I’ll kill you.

\- No you won't !! Tony replied in a playful tone. But thank you for confirming my assumptions.

\- I didn't kill your father, said Sherlock, everyone knows that he was shot by an MI5 agent.

Tony walked toward Sherlock, until he found himself in front of him.

\- Oh yes I heard this theory of the British Government. But let me not believe a word of it. I know you murdered him Sherlock Holmes. I too have high-ranking connections in the governement. Very useful friends from the IT department who fake assassination videos or have access to videos, how can I say ?,... hum... very... revealing.

He had said these last words glancing at Molly, and then with a knowing look at Sherlock, he whispered :

\- Seeing you lose control and crush this coffin was very enjoyable.

\- What do you want ? asked Sherlock.

Suddenly, Tony fiercely grabbed Sherlock by the throat. "No !" cried Molly who watched the scene with panic

\- I live only to get revenge. You're going to pay Sherlock Holmes. I want to see you die. I want to see the woman you love die. I want to destroy you.

Sherlock felt Tony's fingers tighten more and more around his throat. The man had a crazy look and drool at the crack of his lips.

-Stop it ! cried Molly. Let him go, you freak !!!

Hearing these words, Tony slowly loosened his grip. Sherlock gasped.

\- You're right, Miss Hooper. Everything in its own time. Especially since I have a friend who would like to say goodbye to your detective.

Then he whistled loudly and the door through which he had entered opened again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little reference to The Walking Dead in this one !


	6. Chapter 6

Despite the darkness, Sherlock immediately recognized Irene Adler's silhouette and stride. He wasn't really surprised, at this point he expected everything. The late Jim Moriarty himself would have walked through the door, that Sherlock would not even raise an eyebrow. He had just escaped a strangulation, his whole body was making him suffer, and the anguish he felt for Molly was unbearable. The situation was completely out of his control. But he was trying at all costs to keep a rational and calm mind. That's what he did best and that's what was going to get them out of here. His gaze rested on his pathologist who, as when Magnussen Jr. entered the hold, could not see at all who approached behind her. Seeing her fear, he murmured, "It's ok Molly." She nodded and seemed to understand the reassuring words on his lips, but Sherlock saw in her eyes that his words did not appease her. He then felt the need to stare intensely at the brown eyes. To let himself go to tell her, through his eyes, everything he wanted to say.

_Be strong Molly..._

_You are brave..._

_I'm here... we're going to get through this..._

_I need you, you have no idea_

_I ..._

Tony Magnussen abruptly interrupted the gentle silent exchange by positioning himself between the two prisoners, with his back to Sherlock. A moment later, Irene Adler, whose stilettos echoed throughout the ship, entered the light. Sherlock turned his gaze to her. As usual, The Woman was beautiful, sculptural. She wore a long black dress which, Sherlock thought, was totally inappropriate for the place and situation. Her perfume embalmed the room, her makeup was impeccable. Sherlock noticed that she did not look at Molly a single way.

\- I don't need to introduce her to you, said Tony Magnussen, addressing Sherlock.

\- Hello Mr Holmes, it's been a long time since I had the pleasure of meeting you, said The Woman with a smile. If I remember correctly, last time you were wearing a turban. And we didn't have time to go to dinner. We were in a bit of a hurry.

Sherlock remained silent, staring coldly at The Woman who looked at him with an impassive eye. He had detected the emotion in her voice, she was acting. Irene Adler was manipulative and ambitious, he knew it. She was, in her own way, a criminal. But participate in the kidnapping of an innocent person ? Torture? It wasn't her, it didn't fit with the character.

\- Miss Adler wanted to be present on the day I was about to complete my plan to end your lives. Something that certainly has to do with feelings, said Tony Magnussen as he approached Molly. In a few minutes, this ship will take off. Once offshore, my men will leave you both after opening a waterway. Driving this boat, and you two, at the bottom of the Channel. No one will ever know what happened to you, sweetheart, he added, stroking the cheek of the young woman who had a recoil movement.

Then, turning to The Woman:

\- Adler! Say goodbye to your detective now. We don't have all night.

Irene Adler approached Sherlock. Once out of Magnussen's sight, her mouth clenched and Sherlock read a real compassion in her eyes. Her face was now only inches away from the detective's.

\- I saved your life, Sherlock whispered to her.

The woman looked at him with a deeply sad look. Tears formed in her eyes. Her face approached again and she murmured.

\- I'm sorry Sherlock. He knows things about me. Things that could get me murdered right now, if they were revealed. Sorry Sherlock, I'm so sorry she is involved in this plan.

With these words, and in a flash, Irene Adler sealed her lips to Sherlock's. The detective, surprised, had a recoil movement but nothing could prevent the kiss. Sherlock let himself be kissed by The Woman, determined not to give her any reaction. The kiss was salted with the few tears shed by Irene Adler. He felt her tongue trying to force the passage of his closed lips. Without knowing why, at her insistence, he gave in. Their tongues intertwined in a cold, forced and metallic dance.

\- THAT'S ENOUGH! Magnussen cried. 

This put an end to the attack of the woman, who slowly removed her lips from those of the detective. She looked at Sherlock one last time with a sad smile. Magnussen approached her, grabbed her arm and dragged her with him. "Let's go, my men are ready," he said.

Molly, who had witnessed the scene in silence, begged the two kidnappers as they passed by her:

\- Please don't do that. Please...

But they didn't even give her a look. Anthony Magnussen and Irene Adler quickly left the hold, leaving Sherlock and Molly to their sad fate.


	7. Chapter 7

The heavy metal door of the hold closed and the silence came back to the engine room.

Stunned, trying to digest what had just happened, Molly and Sherlock stared in silence.

After a few seconds, Molly spoke. Sherlock noticed her ironic and annoyed tone :

\- Ok Sherlock, I'm delighted to have witnessed this moving exchange between you and Miss I-Am-Not-Dead, but I'm seriously starting to panic there...

\- Molly...

\- No really, it was very romantic... you are a very nice couple of psychopaths...

\- Molly...

\- It would make a very good romantic comedy script if it didn't mean that we were trapped in a sinking boat like Jack in the FUCKING TITANIC !

\- MOLLY !

\- WHAT ???

\- Handcuffs... She gave me the keys...

At his words, Sherlock opened his mouth and Molly saw two tiny, immaculate keys, bound together, on the tip of the detective's tongue. He closed his mouth, the keys between his lips.

\- You mean she gave them to you while...

\- Mmmm

\- Clever, admitted Molly

The detective and the pathologist were silent again. Assessing the situation and the possibilities of getting by. Suddenly the ship moved, indicating that it was leaving the port.

  
As if out of his torpor, Sherlock observed the pipe to which his hands were chained. Then, in an effort that seemed superhuman, he tried to rise from the ground with the strength of his arms. He had to try to approach his mouth with his hands to grab the keys. But the ache was so severe in his shoulder that he let himself fall heavily, exhaling a groan of pain. The pressure of the handcuffs on his wrists amplified the ache. He tried a second time, without success. Before another attempt, he took his breath, closed his eyes, trying to forget the terrible pain that, after these vain efforts, had invaded his whole body.

He then heard a movement in Molly's direction. He opened his eyes and what he saw made him open his mouth in amazement, failing to drop the precious keys to the ground.  
Molly Hooper had pulled up her legs around the pipe and hung like a chimpanzee around a branch. She had crossed her ankles and the inside of her elbows securely around the pipe. For a few seconds, Sherlock saw that she was trying to adjust her body as comfortably as possible. Then she slowly began to progress towards him.

\- You're not going to make it, Sherlock. Let me try. And pray that this pipe does not bear my weight, because if it breaks, we are free.

  
Sherlock didn't tell her that the pipe was far too strong to crumble under Molly's frail weight. Resigned to letting her do it, he watched her progress. She was almost graceful in her movements, taking her time to catch her breath with every inch gained. She was clearly making enormous, difficult and painful efforts. Her whole body was under pressure and every effort was accompanied by a cry of pain between her teeth, which killed the detective. She had hidden her face in the hollow of her arm, in a final attempt to concentrate. And her efforts paid off. She was slowly getting closer to him.

Suddenly, her forces let her go and her legs fell heavily under her. She let out a cry when her elbows also loosened and her whole body fell vertically, the handcuffs entering the flesh of her wrists. She closed her eyes in pain and tears began to flow down her cheeks. Sherlock was in agony. He stared at her intensely and said delicately, his voice had never been so deep :

  
\- Molly... Molly, listen to me, look at me... You can do it... You're strong... Take your time, we have time....Breathe, yes, like that... Look at me... You're going to make it...Breathe, breathe with me.

  
Molly did not take Sherlock's eyes off and catch her breath, nodding at Sherlock's encouragement. The detective's sincerity was noticeable in his voice and his gaze.

  
\- You're incredibly brave Molly Hooper... We're going to make it honey, you and me...

  
After a few minutes, galvanized by Sherlock's encouragements and having regained some strength, Molly rests her legs around the pipe which she managed to entwine at the first blow. Then she darted down her upper body to return to her original position.

  
\- You and me honey, whispered Sherlock without thinking.

  
Molly continued her progress. Painfully until at last, meters after meters she reached Sherlock and her shoes touched the detective's hands. Slowly, she began to get back upright by first lowering her legs. Then she loosened her elbows, and let herself fall again with her whole body in front of Sherlock, a few inches from him. She reached the ground with the tip of her feet and the pain of the handcuffs on her wrists was still sharp. In this position, her head was slightly above Sherlock's. The detective had not taken his eyes off her. To the joy of being so close, they both smiled.

  
\- You look terrible, said Molly. 

  
\- Shut up, said Sherlock, smiling.

  
\- Honey ? she added with a playful look.

  
\- Shut up, he answered, smiling even more.


	8. Chapter 8

Molly and Sherlock stared for a few seconds, unaware of the current situation.

Sherlock couldn't help but smile stupidly, he realized. He could only stare back. The power of speech had abandoned him. He stood unmoving and suddenly nervous like a teenager on his first date. And it was impossible not to respond to the slight smile of his pathologist. For a few moments, time seemed to disappear. Her face was so close to his that he could smell her sweet perfume. As Sherlock felt his heart sink into the young woman's eyes, he suddenly realized that his breathing had become stuck in his chest. It was at the moment of catching his breath that his brain returned to the current reality. Fighting the desert that has developed in his throat, he swallowed hard _(damn, don't swallow the keys !)_ and closed his eyes for a moment to escape the sweet distraction.

With an unsure voice, he whispered in a breath:

\- Molly... you have to take the keys...

By the time he caught her eyes again, Sherlock knew that Molly knew exactly what he meant. The young woman became serious again and he immediately read doubt and apprehension in her eyes. Oddly enough, it put a blow to his heart, an anguish in the hollow of his stomach. 

_Get your mind back Sherlock._  
_This is not the time._

Then, in a voice he wanted assured Sherlock added:

\- We must be quick.

At his words, Molly seemed to regain consciousness. Slowly her gaze became determined again and warrior Molly came back. Leaning her face forward towards Sherlock's, she nodded:

\- Okay

Never leaving the detective's gaze, she approached more. Sherlock could not help but glance at her lips, which were almost at eye level. The closer she got, the more Sherlock felt his heart beat in his chest. He felt that the beats were echoing throughout the ship.

_Molly..._

A few millimetres from the detective's lips, Molly stopped. Sherlock searched her expression as if he weren't sure what he was looking for, but still scared of what he might find. At that moment, he knew he was a man at her mercy. Then she whispered:

\- I'm sorry Sherlock...

_Sorry ???_

And Molly Hooper's lips delicately rested on those of Sherlock Holmes.

Later, Sherlock would know that it was this precise moment that turned his life upside down. That moment when his certainties about the emptiness of feelings, the dangers of love, shattered. This moment which brought him confirmation that the words he said during an unforgettable phone call were of absolute sincerity.


	9. Chapter 9

The moment his pathologist put her lips on his own, Sherlock's brain paused. Forgotten this damned ship, forgotten the pains in his body. All his being was absorbed by the sweetness of Molly's mouth. Molly's lips, Molly's eyes, Molly's body. Never, never had he felt such a sensation, such envy.

  
For a few seconds, he completely forgot the purpose of this kiss. It was when he felt the young woman's lips spread slightly and her tongue caress his closed lips that he realized that he had to pass on the keys to her. With a movement of his tongue, he put the keys on the opening of his lips and very quickly _(too fast)_ , Molly caught them. Goal achieved. But Sherlock did not move an inch, his body refused. Fortunately for him, Molly made no movement and they both agreed on that extra and unecessary second of contact.

  
Then Molly, gently, put an end to the kiss. When his pathologist's lips slowly left his, Sherlock, in spite of himself, moved his mouth forward a little, eager to continue the exchange. But Molly stepped away with a more resolute movement. Sherlock opened his eyes and dived into those of the young woman. He read desire, questioning and infinite sweetness. He immediately assumed that she was reading exactly the same thing in his.

Molly got away from him a little further and he saw her smile slightly with the keys between her lips. He realized that she was definitely in charge of the situation. Suddenly the machines stopped and everything was silent. Molly looked up at he ceiling.

\- Okay, she said. We don't have all night.

\- Yes. 

  
That was all he could answer.

Molly tried to not think about the whirlwind of sensations that had invaded her body from the moment she put her lips on Sherlock's.

She'd think about it later, when they'd come out of this mess. This was not the time to play teenage girl. She had to stay strong and in action. She could see that Sherlock was in more and more pain, his calmness and silences reflected his exhaustion and weariness. Besides, she didn't want to analyze the look he had after that forced kiss. The engines were shut down, soon they were both going to end up at the bottom of the sea.

  
Feeling Sherlock's piercing gaze on her, she stepped back, in order to give herself room to climb around the pipe. When she felt the appropriate distance, she darted and found herself suspended again. Methodically, she made one last effort to find herself in the uncomfortable position, the pipe in the hollow of her elbow. Thus, it was easy for her to approach her lips with her hands and grasp the little keys. Molly prayed that her numbing hands would not release them, her whole mind was turned to these little metal pieces. _Don't let them down._  
Throughout the operation, Sherlock had not said a word. She had to move fast to get them out of there. Molly lowered her legs to face Sherlock again, the tip of her feet providing a slight support to the ground. She glanced at him. He was impassive, merely staring at her with an exhausted look.

  
\- That's good Sherlock, she said. I'm going to set you free now. Ready ?

He replied with a slight "humm... " she took for a yes.

Molly moved towards Sherlock, nearby, until their hands and bodies touched. In this position, Sherlock's face was hidden in the hollow of her neck. She focused on the keys and the access to the detective's handcuffs. Molly began to look, almost blindly, for the entrance to the handcuff lock. The operation was difficult. Molly was feeling Sherlock's nose against her neck. At one point he took a very long breath and quietly released it. She thought he was getting impatient.

  
Then, at last, Molly managed to get one of the keys into the lock. 

  
\- Sherlock ! she said triumphantly, lowering her head slightly to cross his gaze. What she saw almost frightened her. He looked at her like he was piercing her soul.

  
Fixed on the detective's gaze, she turned the key, praying that it would be the right one.

  
A slight click, and in a flash, Sherlock was released and his arms fell against his body. The pain in his shoulder was unbearable and he collapsed to the ground, moaning.


End file.
